Inappropriate Quirks
by azzami
Summary: Muroto Koumei thinks that his little quirks were slightly... Inappropriate for a man like him. WORST manga, Takahashi Hiroshi
1. Beer

Another random, little drabble.

-slinks off to a dark corner-

* * *

Koumei doesn't like beer.

Fine, you can laugh.

He hates the tinge of bitterness on his tongue when he downs them, especially, _especially _Guinness Stout. Zenmei was partial towards that horrible, horrible, satanic drink. The one time Koumei had allowed that disgusting pig-slop to pass his lips was when Zenmei had forced him to, after the arson incident, when the two brothers were at their house, high on adrenaline. The police had not caught up to them yet, probably trying to put out the fire.

"C'mon Koumei, just _drink _it. It's nice!"

"It looks sick. I don't wanna. I don't trust brother's taste."

"Koumei. Just. Drink. It."

Koumei drank. There was stuff that he would rather not get into a fight over with his brother. After all, he was younger by a year. He's supposed to show appropriate respect. His brother would beat him if he did not. Koumei always lost, anyways. Might as well do what brother said and make things easier. So Koumei drank. He opened the can and drank, long and deep.

"..."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!"

The next few minutes were spent trying to rid his mouth of that horrible taste. It was bitter. It was fucking bitter. It was horrible, horrible, abso-fucking-lutely bitter. It was worse than bittergourd. It tasted of dirt and chickenshit. It was, it was, _horrible_. After that one particular incident, Koumei had always steered clear of alcholic stuff. Zenmei knew, of course. And took particular pleasure in forcing his little brother to drink in public company.

Koumei knew that Zenmei was a bastard. That night, that one fateful night when Zenmei arrived home half-drunk and stoned, boasting that he had "Just fucked some pregnant bitch, stupid whore, screamed like a dog the whole time, you shoulda _heard _her wail...", Koumei knew that his face had gone grey when he heard that statement. Koumei had dragged Zenmei out of the apartment, stuffed some money into his pocket, took a knife with him for protection and flagged down a cab. They were still caught, though, early in the morning. There was no-one in town who did not know who the Muroto brothers were.

He still loved his brother though. There was only the two of them, couldn't help it. If his brother did not bring him up, stole and robbed for money and foodstuffs to feed them, Koumei thinks that he would not be able to survive till today. Well, maybe it was not exactly _love._ It was more of a respect, a fear that if Koumei ever left his brother, his brother would hunt him down and kill him. Koumei knew, without a shade of doubt, that Zenmei _would _kill him if he really left him, that was what Zenmei was like.

Zenmei was bitter, bitterer than the beer that he loved so much.

Koumei hates beer.

* * *

end.


	2. Art

A random, meaningless little drabble that popped into my head after a long, long period of blockage. Muroto Koumei is a character from Takahashi Hiroshi's manga, WORST. It's one of the best manga I've read in a long, long time. Koumei might be a bit... Well, not a bit. A _lot_ OOC. So sorry.

* * *

Muroto Koumei was a good-looking bastard, well, at the very least, better-looking than most men. Fine, _average._ Better than average. Yes, he was a better-than-most-men average looking bastard. About the bastard part, no-one, brother or friends would disagree on that part. He was more bastard-y than most boys his age. Setting fire to the local police station during 5th grade with Zenmei should be a good indication of how much a bastard he was. Harassing girls, beating up random people who just had the misfortune to look at him the so-called "wrong" way, extorting money, joining some rich punk on his quest to rule the town... Yeah, Koumei is a proper bastard.

Nevertheless, there was one tiny discerning feature about Koumei that makes him stand out from the ugly, bulldog-faced hard-nosed fuckers who are all _old_ (they aren't young boys, not youths, not teenagers, not anymore.), was that he liked to draw. Now. A liking for the arts might be a very good and common thing, but to Koumei... And his _friends_, for want of a better word, liking the arts is not a very good thing. To put it bluntly, they would laugh their asses off if they knew. His tough guy reputation would be forever maimed, thrown to the dogs as unwanted meat.

... Actually, he had heard some rumours about Housen's Mitsuyoshi. Drama serials and whatnot. Serial watching, recording, an extensive video library and a protective attitude towards those tapes bordering on obsessiveness. Still.

Drama serials aren't as bad as drawing. Koumei adored drawing. Sketching, doodling, making weird little shapes with a pencil or pen or anything that can be substituted for ink... Koumei likes to draw. He doesn't really like to notice how much his drawings suck, though. When he was eight, Koumei thinks, there was this one teacher that had saw a picture and commented on it. "Nice drawing you have there, Muroto-kun, for an eight year old."

Well, talent for an eight year old, perhaps. Certainly not for his current age.

Koumei likes to draw, even so. He doesn't draw violent stuff; he thinks he experiences that on a daily basis. There was no need to record it down on paper. Oh no, on the contrary. Koumei likes plants, for some reason. He likes to sketch them, drawing out the lines in deep rough strokes, running his pen over and over the wrong lines until it turns out okay and finally scrawling his name under the drawing in messy kanji. Buildings were nice too. Statues. Bikes. Various inanimate objects. But plants still remain a firm favourite of his.

Needless to say, Koumei never did tell anybody about this little hobby of his. His associates would not look too kindly on it. He himself feels ashamed for having this type of weird hobby too. It, well, it, to put it bluntly, was not a very tough-guy type of hobby. And anyways, he was a _delinquent._ He was not, certainly was not supposed to like this type of thing. This type of hobby should be restricted to the guys he beat up, or to girls. But oh well, this was part of his personality, was it not? He should take it in his stride.

Still. Why _plants_?

* * *

end.


End file.
